


Remember When (We Were Such Fools)

by Willaphyx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3997060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willaphyx/pseuds/Willaphyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy Blake met Clarke Griffin in September, fell in love with her in June, and lost her in December.</p><p>But it wasn’t until August that he let her go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember When (We Were Such Fools)

**Author's Note:**

> Song lyrics from P!nk's "Who Knew" and Maroon 5's "Unkiss Me."
> 
> I wrote most of this while listening to [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2MYXZi2q02A)

  _“The love that lasts the longest is the love that’s never returned.”_

_\- William Somerset Maugham_

 

You’ve dreamed of this moment.Every day since you learned what love was, since you kissed a girl, since you knew loved her, you dreamed of this moment.

You dreamed of her her standing there, under a flowered arch, golden hair like a halo, swathed in white.An angel.A savior.

Yours.

You’ve dreamed of the moment that the Wedding March swells, bringing tears to your eyes.You’ve dreamed of the moment that her friends and family stand and turn in one extended movement to see her glide down the center aisle toward you.

The moment you haven’t dreamed of is this one.The one where she doesn’t even see you.The one where she walks right past you.The one where it’s not you who takes her hand.The one where it’s not you she reads her vows to.The one where it’s not you who puts a ring on her finger.The one where it’s not you she kisses.

She always dreamed, too, as all people do.

But no matter how hard you tried to write yourself in, you were never a part of her dream.

 

**_September 2000_ **

If there was one thing that Bellamy Blake hated most of all it was being the new kid.

He’d decided this within fifteen minutes of driving into Ark, Washington, after his mom had driven their car into the parking lot of what appeared to be the only gas station in town.

He’d done his research.Ark wasn’t necessarily “small” but it was rural and basically in the middle of nowhere, surrounded on all sides by nothing but fields and fields of grapes and apples.It was one of those towns where everyone either knew or had heard of everyone.And surely by know everyone knew that the for sale sign on the blue house on Main Street had gone down and was eagerly anticipating the arrival of the new neighbors.  


It was hot, weirdly hot for September in such a northern state, and it looked too much like Bellamy’s native Arizona for his liking.Wasn’t Washington supposed to be cold, wet, and rainy?

“That’s only the western half, big brother,” his sister said from the backseat, which she was sharing with half their kitchen, packed into boxes.

Bellamy hadn’t even realized he’d said the words out loud.

“Oh,” was all he could think of to say in response.

“We’re on the wrong side of the mountains for the rain,” Octavia added, more for herself he thought than for him.

“The Cascades,” he mused, enjoying the way the word rolled off his tongue.Even though everything was flat here he liked the idea that somewhere, maybe not too far in the distance, there were mountains, craggy and snow-capped.

Already people were staring.Bellamy was used to staring.It came with the territory of his darker than average skin and jet black hair that had made him stand out since he was a kid.Octavia had gotten luckier, with a more olive complexion and brown hair.Sometimes he envied her.

“All right,” Aurora Blake said, swinging back into the driver’s seat, and turning the key in the ignition.“You kids ready to see your new house?”

Bellamy didn’t think he’d ever miss Arizona.Even though it was where he’d been born and raised, it had never felt like home, more like a pit stop.That was what Ark was, too, he told himself.

 _Do your three years, Bellamy, and then you’re out_ , he told himself.

Three years.He could do three years.

 

Ark was painfully boring in every way except one.And that reason was named Clarke Griffin.

She was a “Student Ambassador” a fancy term for an unremarkable and, according to most, undesirable job: teaching new students the ropes.She was a sophomore, too, just like Bellamy, and in most of his classes.

“The school’s made up of four hallways,” Clarke had explained to him and Octavia on their first day as they waited for their schedules in the front office.“It’s kind of like a wheel with the commons and the main office in the middle.”

She held the door open for them on the way out.That was one of the first things that had stood out to Bellamy about Clarke.She was courteous.Polite.Almost to the point of it being annoying.Mostly because she did it without even noticing.She didn’t think about it.And so Bellamy thought about it too much.About whether or not he was being polite enough in return.He suspected he wasn’t.But Clarke wasn’t the type who cared about that.

“The A hallway is the middle school,” she continued, pointing to where a group of undeniably younger kids was milling.“You’ll only ever see them before school and at lunch.Then the rest, B, C, and D—” she pointed them out “—are the high school.”

While Bellamy had liked Clarke from the beginning, Octavia was practically obsessed.She was still only a freshman, young, innocent, and sometimes obsessive, but Bellamy knew there was something different about this time.

Because there was something different about Clarke.

She was too big for this town, he’d known it from the second he’d seen her, with her river of golden hair and effortless grace.Clarke Griffin was going to go places.He could feel it.

She was an artist and a dreamer.And something in her spoke to a part of Bellamy that had never been touched by another person before.

It didn’t matter how many times he chanted _pit stop_ over and over again in his head or how many times he told himself there were other girls, prettier girls, maybe even better girls.

It didn’t matter.

Because Bellamy Blake fell for Clarke Griffin anyway.

And when Bellamy fell, he fell hard. 

 

**_Late October 2000_ **

“Bell.”Octavia’s voice came to him whispered and hazy, indistinct. _“Bellamy._ ”

He looked up, snapped back into reality by the annoyed tone in his sister’s voice.

“What?”

She gave him a _you know what_ look.“You’re doing it again.”

He bit his lip and looked away, out the kitchen window.It was getting darker earlier now and it was cold at night.But that was hardly new to the Blakes.Sometimes when Bellamy woke in the middl of the night it felt like he was still in Arizona.Then his phone would light up with a text from Clarke and he’d remember.Ark.He was in Ark.And he was—

“—hopelessly in love with Clarke Griffin,” Octavia was saying.“And you have got to do something about it.”

That earned her a small chuckle.This wasn’t the first time Octavia had brought this up and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.“O, we’ve talked about this.”

“No,” she corrected, pointing a finger at him.“I’ve talked about it _to_ you and you’ve ignored me.”

Bellamy smiled.She wasn’t wrong.“I like our relationship the way it is.”

Octavia snorted.“What, with you staring at her all the time like a kicked puppy? Please.It’s nauseating.”

“You know you don’t have to study SAT words for a while right?You don’t have to take that test for another two years.”

She kicked him.He winced.

“Don’t be an ass.”

“Clarke and I are friends, O.I don’t want to mess that up.”

Octavia rolled her eyes.“I doubt that Clarke Griffin is the type of girl who lets her friendships be disrupted by a crush.”

But it wasn’t a crush.And Octavia knew that as well as he did.

“You’re too smart for your age,” is what he told her.

She grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair.“So you tell me.”She stood and her chair made an obnoxious squealing noise.“Mom’s going to be home for dinner tonight.”

He nodded absently and looked down at the table, tracing the grain with a finger.

“Just remember that sometimes doing nothing is worse than doing something,” Octavia warned.

 

In the end Bellamy decided to do something.

“Clarke, I need to ask you something,” he said to her one day after school.

She closed her locker and looked over at him, patiently expectant.

“Will you go to homecoming with me?”

Bellamy would have gladly curled up and lived forever in her answering smile.“I thought you were never going to ask.Yes!  Of course.”

Bellamy had never been to a dance.Partly because there was no one he wanted to take but mostly because he just didn’t care.But now, now he cared.

He cared enough that he gave Octavia five bucks to take a picture of the color of Clarke’s dress (“but not the _whole_ thing, I want to be surprised.”She’d rolled her eyes.“Yes, Bellamy, I understand.”) so he could perfectly match his tie.Enough that he had a thirty minute conversation with the town’s florist over what kind of flowers he should put in her corsage.

Aurora found it endearing and charming.Octavia claimed to be disturbed.

“Seriously,” she’d said as they were driving back from Wenatchee, the closest “big” city (and with 32,000 inhabitants, it was barely a city compared to what he was used to), Bellamy’s altered suit pants and blazer in the back seat, “I know I said I wanted you to do something but being around the two of you now, especially _together,_ is sickening.”

Bellamy had just laughed.

There had been a subtle shift in his and Clarke’s relationship.There were more charged glances.Their eyes lingered longer.She smiled more, but only at him.And he couldn’t remember a time when he’d laughed so much.

Bellamy waited anxiously for 7:30, the time he was supposed to pick her up.He’d gotten his license on his sixteenth birthday at the end of September and was thankful for it.Few things felt more embarrassing than the thought of your mom driving you to pick up your homecoming date.

Her dress was a dark almost wine-colored purple and in it, she looked like a goddess out of the stories his mother used to read to him when he was a child.Bellamy’s mouth had gone a bit dry when he’d knocked on the door and she’d opened it, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Bellamy had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Hi,” she said in a breathless voice.

“Hey,” he said back, his smile stretching his cheeks so wide it hurt.

The night was perfect.

Sure there was the trademark shitty DJ and hovering staff chaperones constantly barking at students to stop pawing at each other, but when Clarke was looking at him like that, it hardly mattered.Because it was just them.Together in this series of moments that Bellamy never wanted to end.

It wasn’t until later that night, wrapped up in blankets on the Blakes’ couch, Clarke tracing the freckles on his forearm, that Bellamy really allowed himself to believe that this was real.

“Your skin is still so dark,” Clarke observed quietly, comparing her rapidly lightening skin to his dark hue.

It was almost November now and it was cold.The sun didn’t shine with the same intensity that it had when they’d arrived and it was showing on their classmates.Clarke’s skin had been sun kissed and golden when he’d first met her.Now she was pale, like porcelain, but not nearly as breakable.

“It’s in my genes,” he answered honestly after a while.“My mom’s Filipino,” he added when she cast him a confused look.

She nodded and continued tracing.

“And your dad?”

“Dead.”

Her finger stilled and she looked up. “I’m sorry, Bell.”

He shrugged.“Don’t be.I barely knew him.He died when I was still young.”

She nodded and her finger slid across his arm again but there was no purpose now.She was focused on something else, her eyes far away and glassy.

“My dad’s dead, too,” she offered finally.Her eyes flicked to him and he thought he saw the smallest sheen of tears there.

Carefully he moved his arm through her grasp.Their eyes stayed locked on her fingers as they ghosted over the bones of his wrist, the veins on the back of his hand, his knuckles…

…until their fingers tangled together.

He squeezed her hand.She squeezed back.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded.“I know.”

“I wondered, you know.”

“About my dad?” she sounded surprised.

“Yeah.Your mom has this air of sadness about her.”

She hummed in agreement.“I think she regrets his last days sometimes.He had cancer but the doctors said he had another couple years.”She paused and took a breath.He traced his thumb across her knuckles.“And then he didn’t.They were wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” he said again.“So sorry.”

She shifted so she was leaning against his chest and stared down at their interlaced fingers.“I know,” she repeated.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours but according to the flashing lights on the DVD player under the TV was barely thirty minutes.

“But enough sad things,” Clarke said, breaking the silence.“Tonight isn’t about sadness.”

He smiled.“No, I guess not.”

“Remember when we first met?” she asked softly.

He laughed.“You mean when I was an asshole to you and made an idiot out of myself?”He cringed just thinking about it.

She smiled.“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“And yet here we are.”He paused.“Why did you keep hanging out with me?”

She bit her lip.“I could tell it was an act.You and I, we’re alike that way, putting up a front, not letting anyone in.You’re not an asshole, Bellamy Blake.”

“No?”

She shook her head.

“Then what am I?”

“Something wonderful.”

“That’s awfully deep for—” He threw a glance at the clock.“One thirty in the morning.”

She laughed and he smiled.

“I’m not quite sure what you are,” she added.“But I know I want to find out.”

A long and comfortable silence fell between them.

“You know I’d never been to a dance before.”

She straightened and stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief.Her hair was coming out of its undo and her curls were unravelling, her makeup smudged a bit.But she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Why?”

He opened his mouth to lie but closed it.“Never found the right person,” he said finally.

“I’m the right person?”

He didn’t answer her question, just slid one of his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up.She was smiling in that easy way that meant familiarity, trust, all the things Bellamy had never been expecting to feel for a girl he hadn’t even known for two months, let alone see reflected back in her eyes.

He kissed her.

And when her lips parted under his and her hand slid into his hair, he knew that this was right. _She_ was right.

And later when they were drunk off each other, he whispered a question into her ear.

That time when she looked at him he saw the promise of something.

“Yes, you idiot,” she said and he grinned again.“Of course, I’ll date you.”

 

**_December 2003_ **

Clarke Griffin was the only girl Bellamy had ever met who would only drive pickup trucks.

“Farmer’s kid, born and raised,” she’d always say, “more comfortable behind the wheel of a tractor than a car.”

And it was true.Her father had been a farmer.And Bellamy knew that she missed the wide openness of the acreage she’d grown up on more often than not.The acreage that Abby Griffin had sold as soon as the ink had been dry on her Jake’s death certificate.

They were in the bed of Clarke’s truck, wrapped up in one blanket, a thermos of hot chocolate with just the tiniest bit of vodka stirred in, and Bellamy savored the burn of the alcohol and the ridges of the truck bed against his back.

Christmas was only a handful of days away.There was a tree in every window and the lines of every roof were smothered in strings of lights.Turkeys were on sale at Safeway and everyone’s pantry was stocked with enough apple cider to fill a small lake.

But the Christmas cheer hadn’t imbued itself into Clarke.

She sat huddled next to him, physically close but still miles away, arms locked around her knees, on which her chin balanced, as she stared out at the setting sun.

“Are you okay, Clarke?” Bellamy asked, letting the concern seep into his voice.

She didn’t answer for a long time.Before she did, she turned her head so she was looking at him, and studied his face.“Yes.”

She didn’t look away but she didn’t say anything else either.

“Is this about her?What she wants you to do?”

A faraway expression drifted across Clarke’s face.“No.”

It was a lie.

 

**_June 2002_ **

Bellamy Blake loved dreaming.

He loved thinking about what he _could_ do, what he _might_ do.But never what he would do.Because that wasn’t nearly as interesting.

He'd read the stories of those who just dropped everything and _went_.Maybe with a goal in mind but maybe not.People who just said they’d had enough and took to the open road.

Whenever he was asked, Bellamy claimed that he didn’t dream, asleep or awake.That he never had.But that wasn’t true.He did dream.And he dreamed of that: leaving it all behind and being responsible to no one but himself.But that had never been in the cards for Bellamy Blake.

All his life he’d wanted to be able to say that something was just a stop on the greater path of life.He’d imagined himself saying it hundreds of ways to hundreds of people.And when he’d come to Ark he thought that this was finally his chance.A three-year requirement before he could move on with his life.

But he’d been kidding himself.Ark had never been a pit stop.There had never even been a chance.Because Ark had Clarke.And wherever Clarke was was where Bellamy wanted to be.

Especially when she was grinning at him like that around bites of her ice cream (she never ate cones: “then it melts all over my fingers.It’s _sticky_ , Bell, stop _laughing at me!”_ ), wearing only one of his larger button downs over a bikini.

“Hey,” she said, throwing herself down next to him on the shore and leaning her head against his shoulder for just the smallest of moments.

“Hey,” he replied, stealing her spoon and taking a bite.“Mmm, cherry garcia.”

She laughed and shoved his shoulder.He smiled and wrapped am arm around her.

“Here’s to summer,” he said, raising an invisible glass to the rushing waters of the Yakima River.

“Here’s to one more year of high school,” Clarke countered.“Thank God.”

“Yeah, well, don’t rub it in the faces of us peasants,” Octavia grumbled, sliding in next to Bellamy, rubbing sun screen onto her upper arms.

Bellamy leaned his head back and smiled, relishing the hot burn of the sun against his skin.

Summer had come early that year and the temperature was already working its way into the high 80s.They were due for a hot summer, maybe more so than usual, but Bellamy wasn’t bothered in the least.Not when he had Clarke on one side and O on the other.

Clarke shrugged off his shirt and held out the bowl to him.He accepted it, watching as she splashed into the river, gasping at the cold but still smiling nonetheless.

Octavia nudged him.“You’re staring.”

Bellamy’s smile widened.“So what,” he said, not taking his eyes off his girlfriend of a year and a half.“I’m allowed.”

Octavia shook her head.“You disgust me.”

Bellamy laughed.“Well, here, have the ice cream.As a consolation prize.”

He threw it into her lap and shucked off his own shirt before running into the water and tackling Clarke around the waist.They fell into the next wave, laughing.

In all of Bellamy’s dreaming he had never imagined that he would find love.Especially not in some dead end town in Washington State that no one had ever heard of.

But then, he guessed that life was all about surprises.And so here he was, in love.

 

**_March 2004_ **

Life was about the little things.Like the smell of her hair in his nose after a long three months apart.Like the feeling of her face against his chest, breathing him in.Like how it felt so right to have his arms around her.How he never wanted to let go.But he had to eventually, if only to let her pull back to look into his eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He laughed. “I missed you more.”

That earned him a kiss, perhaps a bit too lingering for the baggage claim section of the airport but Bellamy couldn’t have cared less.

“You ready for the greatest spring break of your life?” she asked when she pulled away.

He grinned and shouldered his bag, slipping an arm securely around her waist.“I’ve still got three years of college left and then grad school.That’s an awfully tall order, Griffin.”

She bumped his shoulder.“Don’t be difficult.”

He grinned again.  "You wouldn't love me if I were any other way."

“Anyway,” she was saying around a stern look.“You haven’t even met Raven and Lexa yet.You’ll love them.”

“Ah, yes,” he replied, “the infamous and oh so very secret best friends.”

“Not so secret,” she chided.“And very excited to meet you.”

“I mean who wouldn’t be?”

She laughed and tugged him out of the building.

They’d known that college was going to be difficult.Being separated by an entire continent and a three hour time difference was daunting, especially after they’d gotten used to being a short walk down the street away.After all, it never took more than ten minutes to get anywhere in Ark.At least that was the running joke.

And he’d never admit it but Bellamy’s stomach had been playing host to a massive swarm of nervous butterflies since he had left for the airport that morning.Ever since Clarke had made herself at home he’d been hearing stories about her roommate, Raven, and their other friend, Lexa.He had yet to see either of them during his Skype calls with Clarke but he’d pieced together some things about the two of them.

Raven was an engineering major from Texas, studying hard to keep a prestigious scholarship, with big dreams of working for NASA one day.And Lexa was a political science/international relations double major from somewhere on the East Coast whose dreams included the lofty goal of brokering deals between members of the United Nations General Assembly.Combined with Clarke, and the premed program she’d been practically forced into by her mother, they made an impressive (albeit a bit daunting) team.

He met the both of them at dinner that night and took the stolen moments during which he pulled out Clarke’s chair for her to study them.Raven was tall and willowy with dark skin and brown eyes that held laughter.Lexa could be described only as regal.She had the bearing of a queen with perfect posture and a sculpted face.She hadn’t even said a word and Bellamy was already a little bit afraid of her.

“You must be the boyfriend,” Raven said, holding out a hand.“I’m Raven Reyes, Clarke’s roommate.But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I did,” he replied, shaking her hand.“Bellamy Blake.”

“Pleasure.”

He turned to Lexa next who offered him the smallest of smiles and a careful but very (very) firm handshake.“Lexa.”

“Bellamy.”

She nodded and took back her hand, eyes flickering between him and Clarke as he took his own seat.He looked at the empty seat between himself and Lexa and asked, “is someone else joining us?”

“My girlfriend, Costia, was supposed to be coming,” Lexa answered.“But something came up at the last minute.”

“She was excited to meet you, Bell,” Clarke said around a smile, opening her menu.“I tell them all about you.”She looked up and grinned and Bellamy felt some of his apprehension melt away.

“It’s true,” Raven added.“All the time, it’s exhausting.”

He laughed and Clarke smiled, her hand finding his and squeezing it under the table.

His first impressions of them remained accurate.Raven, though a bit tough on the outside, was always up for a laugh or a joke and she took to Bellamy almost immediately, going as far as to offer to occupy him while Clarke was in class.Lexa, meanwhile, was a different story.She was quiet and reserved, made up of hard edges that Bellamy found himself continuously rubbing up against, even when he wasn’t trying.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care that one of Clarke’s friends maybe didn’t like him (he wasn’t even sure she didn’t.Both Raven and Clarke had told him that Lexa needed to warm up to people and sometimes she even treated her friends with cold detachment) because he was allowed a look into her world.A look that he never otherwise would have been granted.

“You’ll have to come visit me next,” he said to her one night as they were squeezed together on her tiny twin XL mattress.Raven had agreed to vacate the premises for the week that he was there, alternating between Lexa’s floor and that of her latest conquest, some guy by the name of Wick.

She smiled and stroked a hand through his hair.

“Virginia in February?” She made a face.“Count me out.”

He laughed and turned his head to kiss her palm.“I know, I know.Especially compared to sunny soCal.”

She grinned.“I love you,” she whispered finally.“So much.So so much.”

“I know,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her forehead next.“And you know that I love you.”

Her eyes closed as she burrowed further into his chest.“I do.”

 

**_Late April 2004_ **

“Hey, you’ve reached Bellamy.I’m not available to come to the phone right now but leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

_BEEP._

“Hey, Bellamy, it’s, uh, it’s Raven.”

A heavy sigh.

“I figured Clarke didn’t tell you so I would.Lexa and Costia broke up.It’s bad, Bellamy.Really bad.”

A long pause.

“I’m trying to get her to call you, okay?But I think you know better than anyone that you can’t force Clarke Griffin into anything.She’s struggling.And I don’t want to say give her a break because this isn’t your fault but, Bellamy?Give her a break.Okay?I think that’ll be best.In the long run.”

Another pause.

“Call me if you need anything.”

_CLICK._

 

**_December 2002_ **

“Are you enjoying the egg nog, Bellamy?”

He nodded.“Yes, Mrs. Griffin, it’s delicious, thank you.”

Clarke shifted on the love seat next to him and he looked over.She smiled.

“Why don’t you call me Abby,” Clarke’s mom said.“I feel like it’s been long enough, don’t you?”

Bellamy smiled.“Okay, Mrs.—Abby.”

She considered him for a second longer before nodding curtly and looking down at her lap, straightening imaginary wrinkles in her pencil skirt.“Clarke?The fruitcake?”

Her daughter sprang up with a lithe grace and dashed into the kitchen, leaving Bellamy across from Abby, who definitely was not the chairperson of the Bellamy Blake fan club, even after he and Clarke had been dating for over two years.

“If you’re going to ask me what Clarke’s and my intentions are for next year,” he began, trailing off.

“I have no need to,” Abby said, cutting him off.“I’m sure you two have already figured it out and I trust your decision to be the right one for the both of you.Besides, you and I both know that once Clarke’s made her mind up there’s no changing it.”She smiled.“She’s like her father that way.”

Bellamy’s eyes slid to the picture on the mantel.He’d never heard Abby mention Jake Griffin.Everything he knew about him he’d pieced together from things Clarke had mentioned in passing or information he’d gleaned from their classmates.He’d died young, too young most said, leaving Abby a widow and Clarke alone.She and her mother had never been close, and their difficult relationship hadn’t been helped by how little attention Abby paid Jake in his last days.

“He loved her until the very end,” Clarke had said bitterly one night after they’d gotten a bit too drunk off the wine Clarke had stolen after her mom had gone to bed.“And she couldn’t even care less.”

It was hard to tell that there was any animosity in the Griffin household though, when Clarke and Abby were smiling at each other like that, with the perfect amount of familial love, as Clarke set the homemade fruitcake down on the coffee table along with a set of dessert plates.She reclaimed her seat next to Bellamy and looked between him and her mom.

“What were you guys talking about?”

Bellamy looked at Abby who was watching him with wary eyes.“Oh, nothing, Clarke, dear,” she said airily.“Just discussing Bellamy’s plans for Christmas.What was it you were saying you were doing with your sister?”

He had to hand it to the woman, she was good.So good it terrified him.

“We’re going to look at trees tomorrow,” he answered truthfully.“The yearly tradition.Clarke, you’re coming, right?”

She leaned her head briefly into his shoulder.“Of course.I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

**_May 1, 2003_ **

“You ready?” Clarke asked, anxiety in her voice, her finger hovering over the trackpad of her laptop, mimicking Bellamy’s posture right next to her.

He took a deep breath and nodded.“Together?On the count of three?”

Clarke nodded back and reached down to tangle their free hands together.“ _One, two, three_ ,” they said in unison, fingers descending with a distinct _click_ at the same time as matching screens bearing different logos in the top left corner flashed up.

Clarke turned and hugged him, burying her face in his neck.He breathed in her scent, the one that had become more familiar than his own, the one that smelled like home and laughed.“We’re going to college, Clarke,” he said, voice muffled by her yards of hair.

She nodded frantically into his neck as her arms tightened around his back.“I know.We’re getting out of Ark. _Finally_.”

He pulled back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.“I’m going to miss you though.”

“Of course you are,” she replied, a devilish smile dancing around her lips.He barely resisted leaning forward and kissing it off.“But William and Mary is perfect for you.”

“And Stanford is perfect for you.”

She grinned and ducked her head.“I still can’t believe I got in.And with a _scholarship_.”

“I have no trouble believing it,” Bellamy said honestly, touching her cheek. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.”

She fought back a smile.“And you’re the most wonderful.”

He rolled his eyes.“You’re biased.”

“Maybe.But it’s true.”

“Well, now I get to tell everyone that I have a _college_ girlfriend.That’s a check off my bucket list.”

Clarke laughed and shoved him.“So what, you were just dating me in hopes that one day I’d get into college?”

He considered her carefully, eyes narrowed.Her cheeks flushed under the scrutiny of his gaze.“Nah, you’re pretty cute, too.”And to make his point he leaned forward and captured her lips with his, kissing her softly.Her smile faded as she returned his kiss with equal intensity, one hand falling into his hair as the other slid up his stomach under his shirt.

“I love you, Clarke Griffin,” he whispered to her later as she lay with her head on his chest, one of his hands tangled in her hair.“No matter where you live or where you go to school.”

She tilted her head to look up at him and the expression he saw looking back at him nearly stopped his heart.It did stop his breath.

“I know,” she breathed, reaching up to trace a finger alone his collarbone.“And I love you, too.No matter what.”

 

**_May 2004_ **

Bellamy walked into baggage claim and an attack hug.

Her hair was shorter than he remembered and she was tanner than he’d ever seen her but she still smelled the same.She smelled like Clarke.She smelled like _home_.

“Hi,” she said, almost shyly, as she pulled away.

He grinned.He hadn’t seen her since spring break and their correspondence had been a little bit on the awkward side.But he could feel all his worry and tension about what their relationship would be now that they were home melted away at the pure joy in her eyes.Pure joy that was there just because of him.

“Hi,” he said back, still smiling.“I can’t believe you came all the way to the airport to see me.”

She lightly shoved his shoulder.“Of course I came, you idiot.I haven’t seen you in months.I missed you.”She linked her arm through his and towed him toward the doors.“And this is going to be the _best_ summer ever.”

And she was right.After the seemingly never-ending stress of their freshman year of college it felt great to know that there were three months stretching out ahead of them during which they had no responsibilities and there was nothing to do but relax.

“We’re doing it, Bell,” she said one afternoon as they stretched out on a blanket in the Griffins’ backyard.“We’re making it work.”

He grinned up at the violently blue sky, and shifted one of his arms behind his head, reaching out with his other to tangle their fingers together.

“Did you ever doubt us?” he knew she’d catch the teasing tone in his voice and she did, rolling over onto her side to trace along his collarbone.

“Of course not,” she whispered, leaning her head down rest against his chest.“And I know we’re going to keep doing it.”

“Damn straight, princess,” he said after a beat.“It’s you and me forever.”

“Forever,” she repeated, smiling, and leaning down to kiss him.

 

**_June 2003_ **

The sea of black caps shifted in one motion, almost like a sea of minnows, as Bellamy took his seat next to Clarke atop the stage.

“Thank you, Mr. Blake and Miss Griffin, our _two_ valedictorians, for your uplifting speeches,” Principal Highmore said, the pride almost taking over his voice.

Clarke squeezed his hand.He squeezed back and took a deep breath.He leather of his diploma case was hot against the palm of his other hand.

“And now,” their principal continued, “it is with great joy that I present to you the Ark High School Class of 2003!”He swept a hand out toward their classmates who stood in a fluid motion.Clarke yanked him up by the upper arm and he laughed as she ripped his cap off his head and tossed it.

He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush into his side as he slid off her cap and kissed the side of her head.She laughed.

That day in the gas station parking lot when he’d thought about the life ahead of him in Ark seemed like decades ago.Back in the days before he’d met Clarke, before he’d realized that just because Ark was a dead-end town in the middle of Washington State that no one had ever heard of didn’t mean good things couldn’t come from his time there.And _amazing_ things had happened.

He’d been doing better in school than he’d ever done before, he’d been admitted to the university he’d always dreamed of attending, Aurora was happier than he’d seen her in years, and Octavia finally had her first real group of friends.

And then there was Clarke.Clarke who was grinning at him like he was the only thing that mattered on this day, a day she’d dreamed of her entire life.Clarke, the first girl he’d ever loved.

Bellamy had always thought that when he fell for someone he would be terrified, of having his heart broken and of losing control of his feelings, his heart.But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.With Clarke it didn’t feel like falling, but instead like coming home.Like a warm breeze on a summer evening, like the first cool sting when you jumped into an ice-cold lake.It felt like Ark.Because strange as it was to say, Ark _was_ his home.

 

 

_“You took my hand_

_You showed me how_

_You promised me you’d be around.”_

 

She looks like an avenging goddess, touching down to the human realm to confer with her subjects.She’s effortlessly beautiful, as always, in an emerald green strapless gown, the bodice crisscrossed with thick gold bands that match the small droplets of gold hanging from her ears underneath the blonde crown of her up-do.

Her eyes meet yours.And she freezes.Your heart beats its way out of your chest as she stares, mouth parting just slightly.You know that expression better than your own name.

“Bellamy,” she says, suddenly in front of you when seconds ago she wasn’t, her voice tinged with the smallest amount of surprise, “you look great.”

 

 

_"I took your word_

_And I believed_

_In everything_

_You said to me."_

 

**_December 2004_ **

Bellamy pulled open his front door to find Clarke, looking apprehensive and biting her lip, standing on the doormat.

“Hey,” she said quietly.“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.”He pushed the door open farther and let her slide in.She toed her Chucks off in the foyer and followed him into the living room.

“Are your mom or Octavia home?” she asked as she folded herself into one half of the love seat.

Bellamy collapsed next to her, throwing an arm over the back.“No.Mom’s in Wenatchee doing some last minute shopping and O’s at a friend’s.”

“Ah.”She nodded.They lapsed into silence.

“You want something to drink?” he asked her suddenly.

She looked up quickly and smiled.“Do you have any of that hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, I’ll go make some.”

He thought he heard her whisper, “thanks, Bell,” as he entered the kitchen.He leaned against the door of the pantry and took a deep breath then set to work.

He put a mug down in front of her five minutes later and she offered him another small smile that he returned carefully.

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her hands around the mug.

“Don’t mention it.”He took a deep sip from his own mug.“I thought I wasn’t going to see you until after Christmas?Isn’t your mom’s family in town or something?”

Clarke sighed and ran a hand through her hair.“Yeah, I—I was going to wait but I needed to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

She looked away.“Bell, you know that I wanted this to work, I wanted _us_ to work.”She looked over.He stared back.“But it’s…it’s not.”

Bellamy turned his head and bit his lip.The beginning of tears were starting to burn in the corners of his eyes.“Clarke,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she said and he was thankful that he didn’t try to touch her.“I tried to make it work, I tried to put on a brave face but I can’t do this, Bellamy, I can’t.I can’t do this to either of us.”

He nodded.“Thank you for actually saying something and not just, you know, disappearing and never speaking to me again.”

“You deserve so much better than that,” she replied.

“Well, thank you.”

She nodded and paused for the briefest of moments before putting her mug down on the coffee table.“And thank you, Bellamy Blake.For everything.”

He stood and she followed.They faced each other in silence, studying the face that they each knew better than their own.

“I think I need you to leave, Clarke,” he managed and she nodded.

“Of course.I understand.”Her voice was a bit shaky but Bellamy couldn’t focus on that.Because if he did he’d be pulling her down onto that sofa and begging her to remember all the good times, the better times.To remind her that they’d worked through this before and that they could do it again.

But he knew that there was no working through it this time.

“Goodbye, Clarke Griffin,” he whispered to the door he’d closed behind her, long after she’d turned on her car and her headlights had swung out of his driveway.

Octavia found him on the floor of their living room staring at his cup of cold, untouched hot chocolate two hours later.

“Bell?” she said quietly, her bag falling from her shoulder as she dropped to the ground next to him.“Bell, what is it?”

But she already knew.Octavia had always been able to read Bellamy like an open book.This time would be no different.

“She’s gone, O,” he croaked, “for good.”

Octavia wrapped both her arms around him and pulled her to his chest, running a hand through his hair.“It’s going to be okay, big brother.It’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t okay.

 

**_October 2011_ **

Bellamy’s been dreading this day for weeks.He hates opening galas but this one’s going to be worse than usual.He knew that from the minute he saw the advertising flyer.

 _The Smithsonian Museum of American History presents History Through the Eyes of Art_.

An art show.Which meant mingling with the local art community, which meant mingling with artists.Who Bellamy hated.

And, as an assistant curator quickly working his way through the ranks of the museum staff, he was required to be there.

“For God’s sake, Bell,” his sister said, looking between the two bowties she had in her hands, indistinguishable as far as he could tell but then what did he know. “You _have_ to go or you’ll lose your job.”

“Maybe I’d rather lose my job,” he muttered darkly, studiously accepting the one she handed him and tying it.

She sat on the edge of his bed and smiled good-naturedly.“You don’t mean that.You love your job.”

And it was true. He did love his job.He groaned and straightened his blazer.“She’s going to be there.”

“It’s been seven years, Bellamy,” Octavia said carefully.“And you’re both adults.I have every belief that you’re going to be just fine.”

His eyes connected with hers in the mirror.She was biting her lip.

“Be strong for yourself, Bellamy Blake,” she said, clapping him on the shoulder.“I _know_ you can do this.”

He heaved a deep breath.“Right.I can do this.”

She clapped him roughly on the shoulder.“That’s the spirit.Now, come on, or you’re going to be late to your own goddamn event.”

Bellamy laughed as she herded him out the door, pressing his car keys into his hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek, yelling _“have fun!”_ after him as he started down the stairs.

_Fun._

Right.

Bellamy had forgotten the meaning of the word.

 

 

_“Cause you said forever_

_And ever_

_Who knew.”_

 

**_February 2005_ **

His phone vibrated on his desk.

Bellamy rolled over.The blinking lights on his alarm clock screamed 2:05 AM.He groaned and scrubbed a hand across his face.

The vibration ended just in time for it to start up again.And again.

Hissing, he reached out blindly to grab it, throwing it up to his ear and growling, “ _What?_ ” into the mouthpiece.

“Normally I would make a comment about how that is a very _not_ polite way to answer the phone but we have bigger fish to fry.”

“ _Raven_?”

“Hi, Bellamy.  Long time no talk.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“At least you picked up this time.”

Bellamy laughed.“Well, I have a feeling this isn’t a ‘how’s it going’ phone call.”

Raven was quiet and he could hear the pounding bass of music in the background.

“You’d be right.I, uh, well, I have something to tell you.”

“Spit it out, Reyes.”

“It’s about Clarke.”She paused and her next words came out in a rush.“And Lexa.”

Bellamy was suddenly wide awake.He swung his legs out of bed.“What about Clarke and Lexa?” he asked in a low voice.

“They’re Clarke and Lexa.As in _an item_ Clarke and Lexa.”

Bellamy was quiet.

“They’re dating, Bellamy.I’m sorry.”

The deafening roar of his heartbeat in his ears drowned out Raven’s next words.He hung up the phone and tossed it away, not even caring where it went, if it broke.

_An item Clarke and Lexa._

It had barely been two months.And Clarke had already moved on from their over four year relationship.

With her best friend.As if he had never meant anything at all, had merely been a pit stop in her greater journey.Her greater journey to _Lexa_.

Bellamy pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle a sob.

Later he fumbled around in the dark to find his phone.It had skidded under his desk and was thankfully unharmed.With shaking fingers he called up Raven’s contact.

 _Thank you_ , he typed out in a quick message.

It was barely a minute before she replied with, **_You okay?_**

 _No,_ he responded after a long shaky breath.

**_If you need to talk I’m always here.She doesn’t have to know_.**

_Thanks, Raven,_ he typed **.**

His finger hovered over the send button but after a long moment he hit backspace instead, closing out of the message and putting his phone back on his desk.

He didn’t sleep again that night.

 

**_October 2011_ **

Bellamy arrived at the museum on time, despite all of Octavia’s worrying and greeted his coworkers with a smile and a handshake.

 _At least there’s a buffet_ , he though as he took a moment to survey the space.

The lobby he’d become so used to has been transformed.There was a red carpet stretching from the street and the art he’d seen only in pictures was displayed throughout the space.There was the landing of the Mayflower, there the Boston Massacre, there a wagon train headed west on the Oregon Trail, and there America's most famous captains of industry.

Years of the history that Bellamy knew so well brought lovingly to life on a canvas.He smiled to himself as he sipped at the glass of water he’d picked up earlier.

Maybe Octavia was right.The event was supposed to be packed, the guest list was pages long.He had friends here, and coworkers, people to talk to.He didn’t have to see her or talk to her if he didn’t want to.

With that thought he turned and froze.Because there she was, goddess-like and ethereal, dressed in deep emerald green.

It was the first time Bellamy had seen Clarke Griffin in person since they’d broken up seven years ago.And he was angry with himself to find that his breathing was still short, his heartbeat erratic in his chest, and his palms clammy.

He’d read her bio in the program, knew that she was the artist responsible for four of the more contemporary pieces up on the walls.She’d dropped out of Stanford’s pre-med program in the middle of her junior year and had expanded her art minor into a major, making a name for herself nationally with her unique style, flair, and subject matter.She’d moved to DC a year and a half ago and had been making waves locally ever since.

It was honestly a miracle that Bellamy hadn’t run into her yet.

His eyes slid to the woman next to her, dark-haired, slim, her back to him.But not Lexa.That much he could tell.

 _Raven_ , he realized as she turned to shake someone’s hand, smiling and laughing. _Thank God it’s just Raven_.

As much as Bellamy might have known about Clarke’s professional life, he’d kept himself miles away from any tidbits about her personal affairs.He didn’t want to see pictures of her and Lexa at gallery openings or special parties.He didn’t want to see _her_ in general, with the pronoun applying to both his ex-girlfriend and her new significant other.

Though at this point, Lexa was hardly new.Assuming they were still together she was older news that Bellamy had ever been.

Raven’s eyes slid to Bellamy’s and she smiled, giving him a small wave that he returned.They still talked occasionally and had been out for drinks a couple of times since Raven had moved to DC for grad school.Though Bellamy had a feeling Raven hadn’t told Clarke anything about that.

Raven was pointing him out now, he noticed, whispering something in Clarke’s ear as she made a vague gesture in his direction.

Clarke asked her friend something, tilting her head in that oh so familiar way and Bellamy had to look away because he couldn’t do this.

 _Seven years_ , he thought. _Seven years and I’m still not over her_.

It was disgusting.

Raven’s gaze was locked onto his as she gave Clarke a small shove.Clarke took faltering steps toward him.Bellamy bit his lip.Raven nodded at him, smiled, then disappeared into the crowd.

“Bellamy.”

She was in front of him now.They were breathing the same air for the first time in seven years.

“Clarke.”

“You look great.”

“So do you.”

She studied his face.“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

He laughed.“Really.Did you not read the program?”He produced one from his inside pocket and pointed to “Assistant Curator: Bellamy Blake” in bold print on the front page.

“I missed it,” she said quietly.“All the artists names are on the inside.I didn’t read the front.”

He didn’t care enough to care if she was lying.

“Well, it’s good to see you, Clarke.”

“Is it?” she asked, her tone the smallest bit biting.

He studied her.“Good to see you’re doing well,” he corrected and she smiled.

“And you, too, Bell.”As the old nickname fell from her lips it felt more like she’d stabbed him.He tried not to wince.“I know you always wanted to work at the Smithsonian.”

The knife twisted in his chest, digging deeper, brushing bone.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.“Dream come true.”

“Octavia told me you were working here,” she added.“But she didn’t tell me which museum.”

Bellamy started.“You’ve been talking to my sister?”

Clarke shrugged, her expression suddenly weary.“Just a little here and there.She and I stopped talking around the time that you and I broke up and I…well, I missed her.”She fixed him a gaze that clearly said _do you have a problem with that?_

He looked away and nodded.“Right, of course.”

She opened her mouth to say something else.Somehow, deep down, like he knew his own name, he knew that it was going to be _“I missed you, too, Bell._ ”

And he couldn’t hear that, he couldn’t.So instead he smiled brightly and asked, “What about you?How are you liking DC?  I didn't think you'd ever move out of the country.”

Her mouth closed then opened again and she smiled, giving no indication that she’d meant to say something else.“It’s great! I’m actually kind of sad I didn’t move sooner.  It's not the same as the wide-openness of Ark, obviously, but I love it already.  Especially DC.We’ve got this great apartment by the Jefferson Memorial now?”

“We?” he asked, voice sharp.

“Yeah,” Clarke said.“Me and Lexa.”

The ground might as well have dropped out from underneath him.

 

**_November 2009_ **

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Bellamy Blake.”

Bellamy looked up from tracing a pattern across the surface of the bar to lock eyes with none other than Raven Reyes, leaning against the bar and grinning.

“Oh, my _God_ ,” he said.“What are you doing here?”

She pulled him into a brief hug before saying, “I’m spending my last two years of grad school interning with NASA.It’s…well, it’s pretty great.”

“I’ll say, that’s incredible!Here, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Well, if you insist.” She smiled and took the stool next to him. “Rum and Coke,” she told the bartender and he slid the glass to her.“So,” she said, turning back to Bellamy, “what’s been going on with you?”

Two hours later they were both drunk, naked, and in Bellamy’s bed, chests heaving.

“That was an unexpected turn,” Raven said, her smile evident in her voice as she tipped herself up on elbow.“But fun.Thank you.”

Bellamy chuckled.“Anytime?”

“Hmmmm,” she hummed before leaning down to kiss him again.“I think I’m going to take you up on that one.”

He laughed as one of his hands tangled in her hair, dragging her down, down, into him.

And for a night he forgot that the woman in his bed was one of his ex-girlfriend’s best friends, forgot about the hole in his heart, forgot about blonde hair and blue eyes, forgot about _Clarke_.

The next morning he made her coffee and slid it across the counter to her.It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t weird.It was _normal_.

Bellamy hadn’t thought of anything as normal in years.

“I’ll call you?” he offered.“Since you’re in town for a while and all?”

Raven considered him over the lip of her coffee mug.“I like you, Bellamy Blake,” she said finally.“But I’m not dealing with your emotional baggage.”

Bellamy put his coffee cup down with a clatter.“I don’t—”

“You over Clarke yet?”

He looked away.“No.”It was like a whisper, borne on the wind, not meant to be heard, but heard nonetheless.

“Then feel free to call me.But it won’t be for sex.”She pecked him on the cheek.“Next time drinks are one me, okay?”

 

 

_“Unkiss me_

_Untouch me_

_Untake this heart.”_

 

**_October 2011_ **

Octavia found him in the dark in their living room, the only light the small circle cast by the table lamp he’d clicked on.

“Bell?” she said, quietly, and the parallel cut him to the bone.

Because hadn’t they done this very thing just seven years ago, after the last time he’d seen her?

God, he was predictable.He was predictable and stupid and he hated himself.

And yet here he was, staring down at the superlatives page of his senior yearbook, hand splayed out next to where “CUTEST COUPLE: BELLAMY BLAKE & CLARKE GRIFFIN” was written in a funky font over a picture of them on the bleachers, laughing.Her head was on his shoulder, hair splayed out, his arm around her waist.

The yearbook snapped shut.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Octavia said, sternly.She tugged it out from his grasp and he let her, letting out a deep sigh.

“What are you doing here, O?Don’t you have your own apartment to go back to?One where you don’t have to console your pathetic older brother?”

“You’re not pathetic, Bellamy,” she asserted, sitting down cross-legged next to him.“You’re hurting.There’s a difference.”

He laughed bitterly.“Seven years, Octavia.And I’m still not over her.”

She didn’t say anything, just leaned her head against his shoulder.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock in the kitchen.

“You didn’t tell me you were talking to Clarke again,” he managed finally.

“She asked me not to.”Her answer came quickly, easily.

Bellamy rolled his head back, relishing the crack in his neck.

“Did you know?”

The silence between them seemed to stretch on for miles.She knew what he meant.Did she know that Clarke’s relationship with Lexa had been anything but temporary.Did she know that Clarke had never mourned the loss of their relationship like he had.Did she know that Clarke hadn’t spent the last seven years trying to move on and failing.Did she know that Clarke had spent the last seven years _happy_.

“Yeah,” Octavia said finally, and it sounded less like a word andmore like a sigh of relief at finally being able to say it.

 

**_January 2008_ **

Bellamy took a sip of his beer as Miller, his undergrad roommate who was in town for the weekend, slid onto the stool next to him, bearing their next round of drinks.

“Man, I can see why you decided to make the trek up here for grad school,” Miller said appreciatively.“DC’s great.”

Bellamy chuckled into his beer.“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for the bartender.”

Miller slapped him upside the head and Bellamy ducked unsuccessfully, still laughing.

“You can hit me all you want,” he said, “but don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t taken your eyes off him since we got here.”

Miller’s cheeks flushed as the woman on the bar stool next to Bellamy, a lanky brunette leaned over.“His name’s Monty,” she whispered.“And I have it on good authority that you play for the same team.”She winked at Miller, who blushed harder, then returned to her own drink.

Bellamy laughed and shook his head, smiling down at the second beer Miller had brought him.

“Oh, fuck you, Blake,” Miller said but there was no heat behind the words.

Bellamy nudged him.“Go talk to him.”

Miller’s eyes slid over Bellamy’s shoulders to the woman who had returned to chatting with the group of others she’d come with.“Only if you talk to _her_.”

Bellamy considered his friend carefully as a shark-like smile slid over Miller’s features.“Fine,” he said.“I’ll go first.”

Miller leaned back in his chair, grinning, and made a _go ahead_ gesture with his hand.

Bellamy slid off his chair and slid himself between the woman and the friend she’d been talking to.She started, surprised, but there was a smile playing around her lips.

“I’m Bellamy,” he said holding out a hand.“And on behalf of my friend over there I’d like to say thank you.For the tip,” he added.

Her smile widened as she shook his hand.“Pleasure to meet you, Bellamy.I’m Echo.”

 

**_October 2011_ **

On the floor of the bare apartment that he was barely able to afford, Bellamy leaned against his sister’s side, her arm around him, hand stroking up and down his arm, making consoling noises.He was still in his suit, the pants probably ruined, the shirt unbuttoned halfway, his bowtie untied, hanging around his neck like an unknotted noose.

He looked like shit.He felt like shit.Really, his life was shit.

_How did he get here?How did this happen?_

“Why can’t I get over her?” he croaked as Octavia ducked her head, pressing her lips to the crown of his own.

She was quiet for a long moment, collecting her thoughts.His eyes drifted closed as he fought against a wave of tears.

“She’s always there, O.I always see her.In every place I go, everyone I meet, every relationship.I’ve _tried,_ Octavia.I’ve tried _so fucking hard._ And she’s always there, fucking _haunting_ me.Laughing at me and this fucking _meager_ existence I’m managing while she’s off living in her nice apartment by the Jefferson Memorial with _Lexa_.”He spat out the word like it was poison.

Octavia stroked his hair.“You don’t mean that, Bell,” she whispered.“I know you don’t.”

The first tear rolled down his cheek and he swatted at it angrily.“Look at me, Octavia.Look at what's happened to me.”

She tilted his head up and forced him to look at her.“I am looking at you, big brother.And all I see is someone who’s been dealt a shitty hand of cards.Someone who’s trying so hard to do better.You’re going to get there one day, Bell.You just have to keep fighting.”

“It’s hard,” he whispered.“And it _hurts_.”

“I know,” she whispered.“I know.”

“How am I supposed to move on if she’s always standing in the way?”

“There was Echo,” Octavia suggested.  "That was a valiant effort."

Bellamy choked on his harsh laugh.“Right.Echo.”

 

**_March 2009_ **

Smashing plates.

His clothes in a heap in the lobby of her apartment building.

Glass vases thrown at his head, shattering against a photo of them.

Screaming matches that lasted long into the early morning.

Sleepless nights spent tossing and turning on Octavia’s couch.

And the _jealousy_.It had been warranted, yes, but the jealousy had been what really drove the nail home.

“I’ve never even met this woman!” she’d yell, hands shaking, reaching for the next piece of china.“I don’t even fucking know what she looks like!”

And Bellamy would leave, bang out of the apartment, angry tears in his eyes, body shaking, mind racing with pure rage.And he wouldn’t even know what he was angry at.Himself?Clarke?Lexa?Echo?The whole fucking world?It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that he was trapped in a never-ending spiral of hating himself and fighting with the girlfriend who had already put up with far too much.

Until one day, in a breath of fresh air, it was over.Sweet, blessed relief.He came home to find her on the floor of his apartment, sobbing, surrounded by the contents of the box he kept hidden in the deep dark depths of his closet where occasionally even he could pretend it didn’t exist.

Echo, his girlfriend, the woman he was supposed to be in love with, was crying, surrounded by pictures of Clarke, his ex-girlfriend, the woman he was actually in love with.

“What is this?” Echo demanded through her hiccuping coughs.“ _What is this?”_

“I’m sorry,” is all he could manage to say.

She threw herself to her feet, wobbling a little.Blindly he reached out to help her and she swatted his arm away, body wracked by another series of sobs.

“ _Four months, Bellamy,”_ she hissed, pointing an accusing finger at him while he stood helpless.“ _Four months_ I have tried to pretend that the fact that you’re still in love with Clarke Griffin doesn’t cut me to the _fucking core_.But I can’t do it anymore.I’m done. _We’re done_.”

That night was the night he finally did what he should have done four years ago.

That night he finally cut Clarke Griffin out of his life, and he lay down on the carpet of his living room, surrounded by the shredded memories of their life together and stared blankly at the ceiling.The tears would come.But not yet.There was only emptiness and despair.

But she wasn’t gone.Clarke Griffin would never truly be gone.Instead of haunting his waking days she haunted his sleeping dreams.Always there, never letting him forget, never letting go.

 

 

_“Can’t erase this_

_Can’t delete this_

_I don’t need this_

_I can’t handle it.”_

 

**_October 2011_ **

“I want to hate her,” he said later and Octavia stiffened.“But I can’t.”

“You love her too much.”  She sighed.“I know, Bell. I know.”

“This isn’t normal,” he said.“It can’t be.”

 _It’s not supposed to be like this_ , he wanted say add.But he didn’t.

“We’re all blessed with the possibility of finding a big love,” Octavia said finally.“An all-consuming love, one that means the world and more.And that’s supposed to be it.It’s supposed to be over.That’s _the person, the one._ ”She paused and dragged another hand through his hair.“You’re one of the unlucky bastards who find that love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Why me?” he demanded.“Why did this fucking happen to me?”

He wanted to hit something, throw something, stand on the rooftops and yell, but he didn’t even have the energy to stand up.

“What do I do, Octavia?” he asked, voice cracking.“What do I do?”

He felt the hot stinging pain of her own tears as they hit his forehead.“I don’t know, big brother,” she whispered back, sounding so broken _for_ him that it made him want to crawl away and never look at her again.“Keep going.Keep trying.Keep _living_.”

“Do you even call this living _?_ ” he demanded and she jerked at the harsh tone in his voice.“I’m sorry,” he said softly and she nodded, reaching down to squeeze one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his hair.“It’s okay, big brother. I understand.”

“Seven years,” he whispered, reaching out and covering Clarke’s face in the yearbook so he was just left looking at himself, smiling, laughing, _happy_.“Seven years.”

“All the world is full of suffering,” she said finally.“It is also full of overcoming.”

“Helen Keller.I taught you that.”

“She’s a wise woman, Bellamy.And you’re a wise man.Do you remember when you told me that?”

Despite himself he smiled.“You were stood up for junior prom.You were a wreck.”

She squeezed his shoulder and stood.“Listen to yourself, Bell.If you believe in yourself you can make it through anything.”

Now alone in the darkness of his living room, knees pulled to his chest, eyes burning with the tears he would never let fall, Bellamy hoped she was right.

 

**_February 2015_ **

Bellamy Blake’s death sentence arrived on the tenth of February in a heavy cream envelope.His name was on the front.Embossed in gold.

Inside the envelope was a piece of thick card stock.He slipped it out with shaking hands, forcing himself to read the intricate and spindly black lettering.

 

_Clarke Griffin & Lexa Woods_

_request the honor of your presence at their marriage on_

_Sunday, the 29th of August Two Thousand and Fifteen,_

_at two o’clock in the afternoon_

_at the Mount Vernon Inn:_

_3200 Mount Vernon Memorial Highway_

_Mount Vernon, Virginia_

 

The card slipped through his opened fingers as he stared blankly at the black laminate of his counter.He’d known, even before he opened the card, what it would say.

But nothing could have prepared him for seeing those words, seeing their names written side by side on a _wedding invitation_.

He stood there, palms planted against his counter, staring into nothingness, as the invitation fluttered to the floor, with only one thought galloping through his head.

_It was supposed to be me._

 

**_August 2015_ **

Bellamy felt even more uncomfortable in his suit than usual.He’d always hated them but today was particularly horrendous, even in the custom one he'd had made for all the museum events he had to attend.

August in Virginia might not have been the best choice for a wedding, he thought bitterly.  It was pushing 80 and humid as hell on top of it.He was sweating already and he’d barely crossed the parking lot.

Bellamy tugged at the collar of his dress shirt and stared up at the painted-white colonial facade of the Mount Vernon Inn.The lanterns flanking the front door were ablaze and the door was just barely cracked open.He heaved a deep breath and jogged up the stairs.

There was a small crowd gathered in the entry, talking and laughing.He recognized a few people from their high school and other casual acquaintances of Clarke's ( _and probably Lexa's_ , his brain unhelpfully supplied) from college.  And there was Clarke’s cousin holding the arm of her elderly grandmother.

 _Impressive_ , Bellamy thought to himself.He would have thought that woman would have bit the dust by now.She had to be almost a hundred.

But Clarke’s cousin was looking a bit too inquisitively in his direction, the barest hints of recognition in her eyes, and he turned away quickly, scrubbing a hand through his hair.He wasn’t here to talk to Clarke’s relatives.He didn’t want to talk to Clarke’s relatives.

Who was he kidding, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together if he had to talk to Clarke’s relatives about how _lovely_ it was that Clarke was getting married and how _happy_ he was for her.

He didn’t know if he was happy for her.He hadn’t let himself think about it.

He was congratulating himself on escaping and looking around to find the ceremony space when someone wrapped a hand around his wrist and dragged him down a hallway.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?”Octavia.Looking angry but stunning in dark blue, her hair piled up on her head.

“I—” He stopped.

Why was he there?He’d known it was just going to be torture.And yet there he was anyway.

Octavia’s face fell and she studied him.“Bellamy.”

He chewed his lip and looked away.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulder.“You really shouldn’t have.”

“I told Clarke I would be at her wedding,” he whispered.“I promised.”

“We both know this isn’t what you meant, Bell.”She paused.Swallowed.“You can still go.  She doesn't have to know you were ever here.”

He shook his head.“I’m here.I’m not leaving.”

Octavia opened her mouth.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ.”

Bellamy knew that voice.He spun to see Raven, in the shimmery lilac satin of her maid of honor dress, staring at him like he was a resurrected long dead family member.

"Hi, Raven," he said tiredly, knowing what was coming.

 _“_ Bellamy Blake, what the _hell_ are you doing here?”

He shrugged and, in a tone brimming with false bravado said, “I’m here for the wedding.”

Raven and Octavia shared a helpless look.

“She shouldn’t have even invited you,” Raven muttered.

Bellamy swallowed and looked away. “Well, she did.  And I'm here."

“Jesus fuck,” Raven repeated.

“Well, let’s go,” Octavia said finally.“The ceremony’s going to start soon.”

 

The memory came to him like a dream.But he wasn’t dreaming, he was sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair pulled up to a table drowning in white linen, staring at the tasteful glass vase filled with fresh daisies.

Then suddenly he was in high school again, stretched out in a field by the Yakima River, the scratchy flannel of his family’s picnic blanket under him and the warm familiar feeling of Clarke next to him.She was twirling a daisy, smiling down at the white petals.

“I want daisies at my wedding,” she mused.“Lots of them.In my bouquet.In the church.On the tables at the reception.”

He turned to look at her.“You want to get married one day?”

“Of course,” she said matter-of-factly.“Don’t you?”

And she looked over, that small smile on her face that he loved so much.And maybe it was the sun filtering through the clouds to catch on the golden strands of her hair, lighting them up _just so_ so they looked like fire, but he knew.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

She studied his face.“And?”

“And maybe I want it to be you.”

Her smile broke into a full-fledged grin.“And maybe,” she said, leaning closer so their noses pressed together.“I want it to be you, too, Bellamy Blake.”

He felt the words puff against his lips and he smiled.And he could taste promise on her lips as he pulled her closer.Promise of everything they could be.

Everything they _would_ be.

 

Bellamy was jolted back into the present by the clanging of a fork against glass.Next to him Octavia swore.One of her hands was clenched around her silverware so tightly that her knuckles were white.

 _“I hate her a little_ ,” he’d heard her confess to Raven during Lexa’s vows. _“I hate her for sending him an invitation.For forcing him through this_.”

Raven’s response had been lost in the rousing round of applause after the final “I do’s” but Bellamy was sure it hadn’t been pretty.

He was sweating bullets again despite the almost frigid temperature inside the inn, courtesy of the air conditioning working overboard.

All he could hear was the _ding ding ding_ of a fork against a glass.It was deafening.It was his world.It was tormenting him.

Against his will his eyes slid to the head table, where Clarke was blushing and Lexa grinning as they leaned towards each other.

He’d looked away when they’d kissed during the ceremony but his stomach had dropped ten stories anyway.Now, as their lips connected, his stomach was twisting.He felt like he was going to throw up.

He hadn’t realized that he’d stood until he heard the screech of his chair across the tile floor.It was loud enough in the reception hall that no one noticed.No one that was, except Raven and Octavia.

And Clarke.

Who broke away from her wife to stare at him, wide-eyed.

 _Jesus Christ_ , Bellamy thought, turning sharply on his heel, grabbing his suit jacket fromthe back of his chair, and all but sprinting out of the room.

He didn’t know why he’d come.He shouldn’t have come, he decided as he fell with a heavy breath onto a log adjacent to the parking lot, burying his head in his hands.

Bellamy Blake had made a lot of mistakes in his life but showing up to watch the ex-girlfriend he wasn't over marry someone else had to be the worst.

The gravel of the parking lot was crunching under someone's feet.

“Bellamy?”

He groaned.

Because of course she would follow him out.Of course she would be concerned about him.

 _Of course_.

“Clarke,” he mumbled into his hands.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looked up.She was even more beautiful up close, the fitted bodice and loose skirt perfectly flattering her figure, her hair shimmering in the sunlight.Bellamy’s throat went dry.And he hated himself.Hated that still, after all this time, she had this effect on him.

“You invited me.”

 _Weak_ , he chastised himself.But it was true.She had invited him.And if there was one thing he knew it was that if she asked, he would have walked across the Sahara barefoot.

At least she looked slightly sheepish and maybe a bit like she regretted it.

“You didn’t have to come.”

He studied her face.The face he saw in his dreams every night.The face he wanted to wake up to every morning.The face that hadn’t been his in a long time and never would be again.

“Yeah,” he said warily, standing and brushing off his pants.“I did.”He paused.“I had to say goodbye.”

Because that was why he was here.  Even if it had taken him this long to figure it out.

Clarke’s eyebrows drew together but she didn’t say anything.

“This is it, Clarke.No more.”

“Bellamy—“

“You said your goodbye all those years ago when we broke up and all this time I’ve been holding onto this idea of you and _us_  and it’s been _killing_ me, Clarke.But I’m done.I can’t do this anymore.”

“I never wanted it to be like this,” she said quietly but seriously.

He nodded, looked away for just a moment, gathered his thoughts.“I know.But things don’t always work out the way we want them to, do they?” He fixed her in a straight-on glance.She stared back, frozen, and he knew she caught his meaning.

He had always meant for them to end up together.He had always meant for them to be the ones standing under that arch, promising until death do us part.And she had always known it.Had she ever wanted that?Who knew.It didn’t matter anymore.He was done beating himself up over what might have been.She’d made her choice.And now it was time to make his.

“I still —”

Bellamy held up a finger.“Don’t say it.I can’t hear you say it.Okay?”

She nodded, looked down.There was shame written across her face.

“You know I don’t regret any of our relationship, right?” she asked after a long silence.

“I do now.”

“ _Bellamy."_ Her tone was admonishing.

His eyes slid over her shoulder to the porch where Lexa was standing, a conflicted expression on her face, flanked by Raven and Octavia, both of who looked openly worried.

“Goodbye, Clarke.And congratulations.I’m happy for you two.Really.”He said it louder this time so that his voice would carry across the parking lot.  He followed it with a nod in Lexa’s direction.  After a long moment she nodded back.

“Have a wonderful life, Bellamy,” Clarke said.“You deserve it.”

“Thank you.I will.”

And then, with a smile in Raven and Octavia's direction, Bellamy Blake turned his back on Clarke Griffin and walked away for the last time, a spring in his step that no one had seen since he was a sophomore in college.

 

_“Recovery begins from the darkest moment.”_

_\- John Major_

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me on [Tumblr?](http://maytheymeeetagain.tumblr.com)


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